Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas
by LadyLuckRogue
Summary: Written for the We're Just Saiyan Secret Santa contest as a gift to fellow member Silvia. A Christmas oneshot revolving around the Briefs household and loosely based on A Christmas Story. Post Buu.


Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

AN: I wrote this for the google plus community We're Just Saiyan Secret Santa challenge, my gift to the lovely +Silvia N. This is sort of a little twist on a Christmas Carol. Hope you enjoy, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Rated: T for language (Maybe...)

Words:_ 3908_

_"For many, Christmas is a time for coming together, But for others, service will come first." -Queen Elizabeth II_

It was supposed to be the most joyous time of year, that's what everyone always said. Media, TV, radio, movies...everything was abuzz with Christmas spirit. Decorations were everywhere, lights hung from trees, buildings, windows. Even the usually tame weather in West City was cooperating with the Christmas season, the temperatures dropping to a record low. As of yet there wasn't a flurry in sight but it was cold.

Bulma Briefs just wasn't feeling it this year. She hardly had time to.

A product line in the fall, what was supposed to have been the years biggest and most profitable had fallen through at the very last minute and she'd been absolutely swamped trying to recoup the losses. It wasn't like the fate of Capsule Corporation depended on it, but she sure didn't want to see the stocks fall too hard when the market closed for Christmas. They'd already plummeted more than she liked. The board of directors was on her ass about it as well. The world falling apart at the hands of Buu certainly hadn't helped. Not like anyone remembered that, but she did. It seemed to add a whole other level of weariness to her.

So here she was, the day before Christmas, pulling another 12 hour shift. She'd sent most of the team home at this point, and the few that remained were just there to ensure that the press announcements went out. The project was wrapped up neatly, practically with a little red bow on top, for the board of directors to approve and announce. Capsule Corporation would receive the glory and prestige that went with it, her bank account would profit, everyone would receive their Christmas bonuses and the world would go on spinning.

Bulma sat down with a weary sigh, sipping her cold coffee with a grimace as the printer spit out pages and pages of the specifications, technical details and business plan. Numbers, algorithms, words, it all seemed to blur together.

Somewhere in the midst of it all, she heard footsteps but she was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to recognize the owner of them, blowing it off to one of the many workers in the building. It wasn't until she heard someone clearing their throat that she looked up.

Vegeta stood before her, arms crossed. He seemed irritated, far more so than usual. He pointedly cast a glance at the clock on the wall and looked back at her.

"How long are you planning to stay here tonight?" His tone was clipped. He was definitely annoyed.

Following his gaze, Bulma glanced at the clock seeing it was late afternoon. Damnit, she needed to get the papers together and up to the board before they took off at five. She had barely an hour!

"Just a bit longer." She scooped the still warm copies off the printer and got to work sorting them into neat piles over top of her desk. The same desk covered in an assortment of blue prints, ignored files and unopened Christmas cards. When was the last time she'd even gone through her inbox? She didn't have a clue.

"I'm almost done..." She muttered again.

"You've been saying that for days." She heard Vegeta say and she startled a bit, forgetting he'd been there in the first place.

That hard piercing glare of his seemed to hold something other than annoyance though. For a split second she thought it might be concern but scoffed it off. SHe was fine, why would he of all people be worried.

She looked at him for another minute as he picked his way through her office, around discarded machines. He seemed to grimace at the overflowing trash can, the state of her desk, the half a dozen coffee cups laying about.

"Do you even know what day it is?" He asked.

Running a hand through her hair, she gave an absent minded nod. "Yeah, it's Frid-" She started to say.

"Thursday," Came the clipped correction.

"I knew that!" Bulma snapped, glancing to her calender. SHe did a double take. She knew the holidays were close but it hit her like a ton of bricks all at once to what Vegeta had really been trying to get at. It was the day before Christmas eve.

Sitting down, shaken by the realization, she covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh my god...I haven't even gotten any presents...I didn't even realize-" She said quietly.

Vegeta's eyes met hers again and he shook his head. "Just come home will you?"

Nodding, she watched him leave, hurrying to get the portfolios together to run upstairs. She had so much to do it was unbelievable! Trunks would be devastated if Christmas didn't happen. All because she'd been too wrapped up with work, too self centered and focused on her company to have time for her family.

Her thoughts were racing a mile a minute, trying to organize and build lists, prioritize what she could and couldn't do. Hell, she didn't even remember the last time she'd talked to her mom! We're they coming home for Christmas or staying in Florida? She had so much to do, she could feel the start of a headache at her temples.

In record time she managed to get the portfolios presentable and gave them over the board, watching them ooh and ahh, like children on Christmas morning. It made her feel even guiltier in a way. Christmas wishes were exchanged and in another hour she was finally underway, using her phone to clear her schedule for the next few days, to send out all the necessary emails and messages she'd neglected over the past weeks. It had been so long since she'd gone into this sort of a funk.

It was already dark by the time she got home, the house quiet. Everyone had eaten, that much she saw by the pizza boxes stacked in the kitchen. There were a couple slices left out on a plate, by Trunks, a note beside it saying that he was spending the night at Goten's and would be back in the morning.

It did nothing to abate the guilt. WHen was the last time she'd actually talked to him, and here he was signing a note, "Love, Trunks" like all was right in the world.

Her heart ached as she moved up the stairs. Vegeta was no where to be found and she had a suspicion that he was more than just a little pissed at her. He was most likely in the gravity room, venting his frustration that way.

Making her way into their room, she took off her shoes, feeling how her feet ached from them and she changed out of her business attire into something much more comfortable, an oversized shirt and a pair of pyjama pants. Taking out a notepad and pen, as well as her phone, she was determined to get lists done. Somehow she needed to work a miracle here and save Christmas.

Somewhere in writing all the lists her determination gave out, her eyes growing heavier and heavier. She layed down on the bed, closing her eyes for just a minute. She was so tired...

She could spare just a few minutes right?

_Bulma awoke, bright light hitting her directly in the eyes from the opened curtains and she heard the familar humming of her mother._

_"Wake up sleepy head! You'll miss Christmas!"_

_Sitting up with a start, Bulma rubbed at her eyes. It couldn't be Christmas, she'd just closed her eyes for a minute or two, she had so much to do still!_

_As she sat up with a start, she felt her heart sink a little. Her bed, it was decked out in a pink frilly comfortor, like the one she had as a child, her pyjama clad legs too. They were much smaller than they should have been, those of a child in pink princess pyjamas._

_Heart pounding she glanced around, a chill going down her spine._

_No._

_She was in her childhood room, her mother, her much younger mother, standing before her practically dancing from foot to foot with excitement._

_She jumped from the bed and raced to the mirror, looking at it in shock. There she was, maybe 8 or 9 years old, hair in pigtails, her blue eyes wide in surprise, in shock._

_She saw her mother approach in the mirror, hands touching her shoulders and moving her away toward the door._

_"Come on silly! Santa was here, don't you want to see what he brought you?" Her mother chirped in her ever cheerful voice._

_"Yeah, sure..." Bulma said, trying to muster her excitement. SHe had to be dreaming right? Why was she here, what was going on? _

_She moved down the stairs with her mother, nearly gasping at the sight of the living room. It was decorated in lights and tinsel, the giant Christmas tree taking up a large corner of the room. She remembered decorating it, her father lifting her to place the angel on top of the tree._

_How was it that she knew exactly what was in those boxes? A dollhouse from her mother, her first professional tool set from her father, the one she had to this day in her office._

_She could smell the cinnamon and spices from the kitchen and knew her mother had been baking for hours already, cinnamon buns, cookies, candies, hot chocolate..._

_As she was ushered to the gifts, her father smiling behind his coffee mug, fumbling to get the camera ready, she felt sick to her stomach._

_This had to be a dream, guilt that she'd done nothing this year to get Christmas ready..._

_As her little hands tore the Christmas paper, tears welled in her eyes. Trunks..._

_Would he have memories like this to think back on? Perfect memories..._

_The world spun a bit and she was startled. _

_Instead of a gift paper in her hands, she was holding a pair of gloves._

_The lighting overhead was blinding, the sounds around her louder than a rock concert._

_There were people all around, digging through bins of bargains. Christmas music played loudly overhead and gaudy Christmas decorations were everywhere._

_She was herself again, older, she could see the arms of her favorite wool coat, the one she'd gotten just last year._

_The sights and sounds of the department store around her were almost appalling._

_SHe loved to shop but just before Christmas was something she avoided._

_"You buying those?" A red haired woman with buck teeth, at least a hundred pounds over weight asked. She was carrying one child under her arm, rather like a football, the other three of her brood were yelling and squabbling in a shopping cart. The woman seemed more than a little frazzled._

_"Uh no, they're yours..." Bulma said, handing them over, wincing as they were nearly snatched from her hands._

_"Great..." The woman huffed, chucking them into her shopping cart._

_"Merry Christmas." Bulma managed to muster._

_The woman gave her a side long glance, one of surprise before a small smile appeared on her face and she nodded, "Merry Christmas." She said back._

_Even in the hustle and bustle of it all, at least she'd made one person's day._

_Glancing around in a near panic, it dawned on her, she had no gifts for her own family. What was she doing, standing here feeling good about herself that she'd made someone's day when it was her own family that she was letting down?_

_She supposed that was what Christmas was all about. Mustering up her courage to move through the crowds, she was damned if she didn't make this Christmas the best ever._

_And yet, somewhere in the midsts of gathering presents, decorations, tinsel, everything had faded away and she found herself in the living room of her house. Or at least it seemed like her house. There were changes here and there, furniture she didn't recognize, things moved to different areas._

_There was a scraggly little potted Christmas tree on one of the end tables. It was sparsely but lovingly decorated with what looked like home made decorations. THere were a few gifts under the tree, wrapped, some in Christmas paper, others in what looked like the comics section._

_Bulma watched in wonder as a small blue haired girl sat, picking at a bow. Was that her? What was going on here?_

_She watched as her son moved through the living room from the kitchen, two steaming mugs of cocoa in his hands. _

_"Here you go. Time to open the presents." He said._

_Bulma's jaw dropped. He was older, not by much but he seemed so mature, not at all like the young boy she knew now. He was more like his future counterpart. Wise beyond his years._

_The little girl glanced up, excitement in her face as she eagerly tore into the presents. Most of it was simple things, lip gloss, a doll, nail polish, nothing extravagant but she seemed so excited. Trunks looked on, seeming sad._

_"And these?" The little girl asked, motioning to a few presents still wrapped._

_"Those are for mom and dad. Dad'll be up later he said." Trunks told her, sipping the cocoa._

_"And mom?" The little girl seemed hopeful. Bulma felt another chill. Was this supposed to be her daughter? SHe'd always dreamed of having a little girl..._

_Trunks had a poker face as impressive as his fathers, Bulma had to give him that much. He gave a nonchalant shrug. "She's got that big contract going on but I'm sure she'll be home to open a present if she knows it's from you." He reached out, ruffling the little girl's hair._

_SHe seemed crestfallen, as if she saw through the lie, but mustered a grin so big and bright it made Bulma's heart ache._

_SHe gave a nod, "You're right!" She said with enthusiasm, plopping down on the couch next to Trunks and taking a sip of cocoa._

_Bulma's vision was blinded by the tears she couldn't hold back._

_She'd failed them, her family._

Sobs wracked her even as she awoke, glancing around in a panic. Light streamed through the windows and she moved toward them frantically, rubbing the tears from her eyes. Her lists! It was morning and she hadn't even gotten them done!

A glance out into the yard though made her stop and she could only stare in wonder as she watched snow fall from the sky, an absolute rarity in West City, a Christmas miracle really. The yard, everything was covered in a thick white blanket that glistened in the morning light. It was beautiful...

She reluctantly pulled herself away from the sight and moved through the room, trying to find the lists she'd started writing. They were nowhere to be found...

There was an assortment of tablets and a thermometer on the bedside table that made her wonder if Trunks had come down with something. Why hadn't Vegeta woken her? He hadn't taken care of him himself had he? 

Bulma threw a robe on and started down the stairs. She was taken aback by the heavenly smell of cinnamon and spices that wafted through the house from the kitchen and made her way into the room cautiously.

There was her mother at the stove, putting frosting on her home made cinnamon buns, humming away. Her father glanced over his newspaper at the table, pipe in his mouth.

"Bulma! Thank goodness!" He said.

Bunny Briefs turned, forgetting all about the cinnamon buns. "Oh honey! Thank goodness! You gave us quite a scare you know!"

Bulma found herself enveloped in a nearly bone crushing hug, her mother stepping back only to fuss over her appearance, how she was too thin, too pale.

She found herself being ushered to a chair, cocoa being pressed into her hands, her mother chattering on and on.

"How are you feeling?" Her father asked, even as Bunny continued to chatter.

"I'm fine..." Bulma said with confusion, sipping the cocoa, and although it was good, she was determined to get to the coffee machine as quickly as she could. "I just have a lot to do, decorating...I need to get to the store. I still haven't gotten Trunks anything..."

"Stores are closed honey, it's Christmas." Dr. Briefs said softly, around his coffee mug.

"What? It's Christmas eve..." Bulma said, eyes widening, a sinking feeling welling up as her father shook his head.

"You've missed the last day, you've been asleep, feverish. The doctor said it spiked rather high but that you were dehydrated, overworked..."

"Oh god..." Bulma muttered, disbelieving. "The presents...everything is ruined..." She felt tears of guilt, of frustration well up. "I'm a horrible mother..."

"Oh honey..." Her mother scolded, "Don't you worry. Christmas is still here and everything is taken care of. Don't you stress yourself out now, stress isn't good for the baby."

"What do you mean taken care of?" The last part of what her mother had said hit her like a ton of bricks. "Baby?" She asked in a hushed whisper, her hands shaking as she set the mug down.

Her mother sat down next to her. "You didn't know? Well, that was part of the problem the doctor said, but you've gotten plenty of rest now and once you get some food into you you'll be fine. You'll have to take a bit of time off of work but your father is happy to step in for a little bit." Bunny assured her.

"Oh my god...I just thought I was so tired from work..." Bulma muttered, shocked, "I can't believe...Oh my god...Vegeta's going to flip..." Tears welled up despite her trying to blink them back and her mother dabbed them away with a tissue.

Bunny's face held a knowing look. "I think all your worries might be a little misplaced my dear."

"How so?" Bulma sniffled, "I ruined Christmas, I didn't even get my son anything for Christmas..." She wiped the tears away angrily, "And now another baby and he's going to flip..."

"He knows already. And I know you are worried about what happened in the past but I think you may be surprised..." Her father started, "When he called us..."

"So that you guys could come do all the work, big surprise..." Bulma sniffled.

Bunny blinked, "Bulma, we just got here this morning...I've just started baking..."

Bulma stopped, wiping the tears. "But the living room...and I saw a tree and presents..." She muttered.

"It looked lovely didn't it?" Her father nodded, moving over to the coffee machine and pouring another cup. He brought one for Bulma as well despite Bunny's protests.

"I'll keep it down to one." Bulma promised, "He didn't did he?" Bulma mused aloud. Finally she couldn't help but want to find the answers and got to her feet, peeking into the living room.

It was beautifully decorated, just as it had been last year, only less chaotic. Everything was hung up perfectly, level, nothing crooked. She had to smile at that. His OCD really gave him away sometimes...

The tree too was up, decorated and she saw there were a few new ornaments there, homemade by the looks of it and she moved to examine them. Snowflakes, cut from paper. She smiled, imagining Trunks sitting by the fire cutting them out. Had he been alone or had Vegeta been there with him?

"He insisted that they belonged on the tree." A quiet voice startled her.

She turned, hand over her heart to see Vegeta in the doorway, still in his workout clothes.

His eyes met hers and she felt the urge to look away.

"I found your lists." He said, motioning around.

"I don't even know how to thank you..." She said, floored. This couldn't be the same self centered man that she'd been with all these years could it? Since when did he not fight against every "Earthling" tradition, fight her in how their son was raised, bicker and grouch about useless holidays...

Something had changed in him since the whole incident with Buu, something she hadn't seen since she'd been so busy.

He'd been considerably more calm as of late, as if he'd finally found peace.

He would probably never be remotely normal or any less of a basket case at times, but he was far from the angry young man she'd fallen for.

"I...was going to do all the shopping and decorations, but I..." She said, nearly wincing at her own tone, how lame it sounded even as she moved toward him hesitantly.

"You are lucky nothing more serious happened." Vegeta told her, a hard edge to his tone. "There is a number you need to call by the phone, and you need to do it today. The doctor was less than pleased about your condition."

Bulma glanced down guiltily. SHe wanted to lash out back at him, pick a fight about it but she didn't have the strength to. He didn't deserve that, not after all he'd done.

"And you?" SHe asked, gazing up at him through her lashes. "Are you less than pleased?"

Vegeta stared at her for a moment before giving a dismissive shrug. "One or two brats. At some point it doesn't really matter anymore does it?"

Bulma let out a laugh, feeling her eyes tear again and hugged him. She felt him stiffen before relaxing against her, his arm moving around her. She leaned against him, savoring his warmth, breathing him in.

"I guess not, when you put it that way..." She smiled.

"You are buying the presents next year. The mountain for this brat was enough. Considering the amount will be double, knowing you, you are on your own..." He scoffed.

Bulma laughed again, "Thank you. You did such a great job. Promise, no working around Christmas next year."

"Sometimes sacrifices have to be made. I understand what you do gives us the means for all this..." He motioned around, "And yet, one thing I've learned is that it has to be worth it." He said with a seriousness, a certain wisdom that gave her goosebumps. She nodded, understanding his words, feeling tears once more, annoyed at herself, hormones and all.

She leaned into him, savoring just a moment, a kiss, before a sound, like a herd of elephants, came rushing down the stairs.

"What smells so good? Holy crap! Are those all mine?" Trunks shouted, rushing into the living room. His eyes were wide with excitement and she saw her parents coming out of the kitchen, her father fumbling with the old camera, her mother with a tray of goodies and cocoa.

"Language." Bulma scolded, half heartedly. She got a lopsided smile from her son and a muttered sorry, and she saw Vegeta roll his eyes.

There he was as always putting on the facade of total annoyance and disinterest as he did every year, taking his place on the couch as the usual Christmas chaos ensued.

Bulma felt her heart warm as she glanced around at her family. Her dream had made her realize that her family was more important than everything.

It wasn't worth risking her health or her family for a new invention or a boost to her profit margin. This was what Christmas was all about.

Her hand moved to her stomach and she felt a bit giddy.

Next year would be more chaotic, that she knew.

She wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.


End file.
